


Arthur dressed in Red

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate universe where he turns communist?, America kind of turned a bit into a yandere in the later chapters, Can that happen?, Chapter start of quite small, England is an overworked cinnamon role, England only becomes communist like after twenty chapters, England turns communist, He doesn't do much, He doesn't want to but his goverment does., I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I cam up with it at 3am but can't think of another, I don't even know what the name is, I guess Russia turned out really evil in this, I guess he is anyways?, I lied, I spent so long thinking of a name, I'll stop with the tags now, M/M, Might change it later, More tags to be added, Northern Ireland has no filter, Onesided England/Russia, Please Don't Hate Me, Please read, Russia a yandere, Scotlands a good brother, Some Fruk in later chapters, Some historical facts I guess but don't nitpick, Wales is a cinnamon role, communistengland, duh - Freeform, how do you tag?, i dont even know anymore, mainly USUK, more tags, okay i'm done now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:55:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Arthur feels increasing pressure from the two superpowers both desperate for him to join his side. He wants to remain loyal to Alfred but his government seem to have other ideas and Alfred is becoming more and more controlling the more paranoid he gets. Bad at summaries? Set in cold war. Arthur doesn't want to become communist. I don't know. Pls read.On hiatus because I'm finding it hard to continue. I'll probably pick it back up in awhile but I don't know. You welcome to continue it yourselves if you want.





	1. Chapter 1

With more gentleness that he thought possible in his state America put down the phone with shaking fingers and sank down into his office chair shivering although it was way above average in heat. He didn’t know how long he stayed like that. It could have been hours or mere minutes that he sat there in absolute silence like the calm before a storm. Sitting there trying to ignore the thoughts of betrayal and conspiracies that refused to not be heard. England was now of labour government again. He swivelled round in his chair trying to stimulate the adrenaline he usually got from messing around, but he got nothing. It was not that he dislike the labour government or favoured their competition but the rumours that trailed behind the new government had him on edge. They spoke of labours _sympathy_ towards the Soviet Russia and more than tolerance of communism. Surely the English people knew of these rumours? Or more comforting maybe they didn’t. Why else would they be voted in if not? Iggy wasn’t going to turn on him.

Was he?

More thoughts filled his mind of the past collaborations between Russia and England. He tried to drown them out he tried not to think of the Napoleonic Wars, the Anglo-Russian Entente, the French revolution…

“Stop!” he yelled at the top of his lungs suddenly smashing down on the table clearing his head just for a moment allowing rational thinking to grasp hold and take root reminding him of the times he and Russia had been allied such as in WW2. It didn’t make a difference they still hated each other now.

His lack of faith was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he’d kept these thoughts to himself either. Every time he’d mentioned it to Iggy he’d been quickly reassured and laughed at the Englishman’s quick-witted insults about Ivan before of course he became the target of more friendly insults. Then they’d continue like nothing happened. Iggy wasn’t going to turn on him.

Was he?

Alas the rational thought retreated as quickly as they came. He remembered back to when his government had had forced him to go congratulate the labour party as a way of showing Russia that the alliance between the nations was still strong despite the new government and the rumours connected to them.

He frozen though when before he could so much as knock on England’s door after visiting the PM Ivan opened the door and stepped out.

Alfred just stood there shocked his mind not processing words as Ivan noticed him and cracked a smile that was innocent at first glance but full of gloating and pleasure barely disguised at second.

“Comrade Alfred! I did not see you there, it’s nice to see you again.” In a joyful tone. He waited a second to see if Alfred’s opening and closing mouth would form words before continuing. “I have just finished congratulating comrade Arthur or more accurately wishing him well with his new socialist government. I am very happy he is being so progressive towards the correct political system, da.”

The second Alfred had got in the house he’d started questioning Arthur who insisted a socialist government was all he had, and communism wasn’t on the agender at all and Ivan was only there because his boss had hoped that they were. That he was merely there for formalities and the rather one-sided exchange he had shared with Alfred was merely to get under his skin. Alfred had eventually calmed down, but he couldn’t help notice the empty teacups and empty packets of biscuits on the coffee table in the lounge wondering how long said ‘formalities’ could go on for. He wanted to know what he’d been minutes away from walking in on. But then WW2 happened and the only time the questions of where Arthurs loyalties lay was in the dead of night at three am when he was trying to get some sleep. They’d been good friends and gotten along better once they had a common enemy. Iggy wasn’t going to turn on him.

Was he?

Recently they’d been surfacing again, the worries. The night before he’d been stupid and eaten blue cheese of all things before, he went to bed causing dreams of all sorts. Arthur being forced against a wall. Them signing union papers. Ivan praising Arthur for his good work as he draped an arm possessively around him. Them agreeing to start a war against America together. Arthur giving in to Ivan as he…

Alfred slapped both of his cheeks and shook his head trying to force out the thoughts.

“Imagen Arthur cooking for Ivan if you have to imagen a union between them.” He told himself out loud thinking England’s food was truly the worst form of punishment. He could picture it vividly Arthur cooking some black mess while Ivan waited. Ivan would be wearing some military uniform or suit because if Arthur _did_ go over to his side Ivan wouldn’t bother with friendly social calls like America did. And Arthur would be wearing a union jack top with blue jeans and an apron. Arthur wearing only an apron… Arthur not wearing the apron…

SMASH

Alfred smashed his head so hard that it broke the entire desk in two. He stood up and decided that if he talked to someone it would bring him back to reality. After all no way Iggy was going to turn on him. Not really.

Was he?


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur waited for the tea to brew trying to ignore his headache. Both superpowers, if you could call those idiots that, seemed to be focusing on him more and more as the cold war went on for some reason and it was causing him some serious migraines on the best of days. But he was the representative the UK so it would only stand to reason that he should keep on working.

He sighed defeatedly as he heard the phone ring. What was it now?? Alfred was always calling him for one reason or another these days to go on about some new breakthrough on the hydraulic bomb, any battle plans even if they didn’t involve England and daily reminders of how communism was evil. Each phone call also either seemed to include Alfred subtly or in some case not so subtly threatening or begging him to stay on his side. Arthur learnt it was easier to not really listen once he got into a rant and occasional make agreeing sounds when he paused for a breath or a reply and wait until the end to complain about the call.

Arthur was secretly glad for the daily check-ups since it made him feel safe. Safe from Ivan and what felt like his ever-watching patience waiting for an opportunity to strike. Safe from the Russian government officials that seemed to often meet with his behind closed doors.  Safe from himself and the nagging voices at the back of his head telling him maybe communism wasn’t that bad.

It was pathetic, he the former British Empire was relying on who used to be his little brother for protection against a country he used to fight toe to toe with.

The phone was still ringing he realised suddenly rushing to grab it before it would go to voice mail,

“Arthur! I though something had happened when you didn’t pick up!”

“I’m sorry Alfred but you’re not always my first priority.”

“What was…”

“Tea! God knows I need the caffeine.” Nervous laughter from the other end with a hint of relief.

“Well I just wanted to tell you about this study since you’re an old man and interested in boring stuff like that…”

“If its about communism I know. I’ll listen to it another time I’m just… I’m just not in the mood right now.” Silence. Arthur winces as he sips his freshly made cup of coffee. He shouldn’t have taken the chance just to get a few minutes silence without paperwork or stressful thoughts, not right now. If Arthur… no if America viewed them as a threat no good would come out of it for his country.

“Why?”

“I’m tired Alfred. I haven’t slept in days. I’ve even had to call my brothers in to help! But you know them when they arrive, they’ll probably be more trouble than there worth.”

“So, Ivan isn’t there?”

“Why would he be?” Arthur was generally confused. Alfred was paranoid but normally not so bluntly.

“No reason.”

“Alfred.”

“One of our spies in… Russia informed us he had good reason to believe you two would be meeting soon. I’m just worried about you.” Great Arthur thought. He preferred threatening Alfred over begging Alfred because at least then he was sure he was the good guy.

“Well I have yet to be informed of anything of the sort.” America made an unhappy noise at the end of the phone “…would it help if I listened to this report of yours?” Arthur eventually said giving up as Alfred didn’t wait a second cramming as many words per second as he could.

 

Alfred put the phone back after he finished reading out the report just in time to hear a large crash and Arthur reminding him how colourful their language could be while scolding his newly arrived older brothers.

He leaned into his chair before jumping up. Sitting still was so boring, he should go around up some people to play soccer or something. Still he couldn’t calm his beating heart he’d almost let slip that he’d placed spies in England, for its own protection against the communist disease of course but if Iggy found out he’d hate Alfred. Alfred didn't want Arthur to hate him. He wanted him to see how he, as the hero, had a duty to protect him.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It was only 7.15 but the party was in full flow. With music, small talk and the clatter of silverware drifting into Ivan’s ears. Sure, there was no excessive drinking of alcohol…yet, but the party Arthurs government had thrown was actually quite enjoyable and a delightful way to spread the ideas of communism to the not yet convinced party members. However, one thing was holding it back. Try as he might Arthur would not be found. When he asked the other Englishmen, they all pointed him in direction of where they last saw him but by the time, he got there England would be gone. He hadn’t even greeted him yet and Ivan was getting impatient. Eventually by 9.00 most where more than slightly tipsy and Ivan grabbed the opportunity to stand on a table when no one sober enough to care was looking and used it and his height to scan the vast and tightly packed hall for Arthur.

“Looking for something?” came a voice from his left in a thick Scottish accent that came so suddenly that if Russia hadn’t been Russia he would have jumped at it.

“Alistair it has been to long!” Ivan exclaimed getting off the table and looking Scotland up and down. If he hadn’t been among the tall Russians, his height would have made him unmissable that with his strangely vivid red hair and piecing green eyes. “Are you sure you should be smoking here?”

“No-ones complained about it and I opened a few windows.” Alistair mumbled. “But you haven’t answered my question Russia.”

“Call me Ivan, please. Let us not be troubled by such formalities at happy time of friendship like this.”

“I asked you a question _Russia_.” Scotland reminded him steadily. Russia smiled in an amused way, he was as proud and unbending as England.

“I was looking for the host. We have not appeared to have exchanged any words at all so far.” Russia told him choosing his own words carefully. In terms of military Scotland didn’t stand a chance against him but one to one he might be the only one other than America and maybe Sweden who stood a chance. He also, though not the representative, held a huge sway on the political side the UK and it was imperative Ivan didn’t worsen their relationship if he had any hope of winning the UK over to his ‘side’.

“Me, England, Wales and North are all your hosts.” The Scotsman told him steadily.

“Yes, but it is held in England, da? That is who I’d like to see.” Ivan reminded him happily.

“I guess.” The Scotsman regarded him for a second with a wary eye as he blew smoke away in a thin trail.

“Only for formalities. My boss is pestering me to build up a good relationship with him and I do not want him to get mad. The UK is an important trading partner.” Russia tried to assure him and was joyous as Alistair’s shoulders dropped and his guard lowered.

“All this political crap is making my head hurt! Seriously, everything's so excessively complicated nowadays. I miss the old days where you could solve all your problems with a war!” Scotland exclaimed suddenly causing Russia to chuckle. “I’m going to go see if I can find a _real_ drink or if I’ll have to drive back up to Glasgow to get stoned. My brothers somewhere over there. Oh, and…” he was silent for a second. “…he’s been working himself to death lately so be quick.”

Ivan couldn’t quite work out if it was a good-natured warning or a threat. In some ways Alistair was really like him especially when it came to drinking apparently. He made a mental note to try the nations alcohol at a later date.

True to Alistair’s words he found England where he had gestured, sulking it seemed by a table filled with snacks.

“Arthur! I’ve been looking for you. It was like you were trying not to be found.” Ivan told him innocently knowing full well that England had not wanted to be found.

Arthur jumped. He’d spent the entire evening keeping one eye on Ivan avoiding him but the second he turned his back Ivan was there. In order to regain his thought process, he finished piling up his plate with food he was never going to get around to eating before turning to talk to Russia.

“It has been a busy party! Don't know half the people here and the ones I do seem determined to be found.” he agreed in what he hopes was a cheerful manner. “I always find in situations like these that a forget who knows who I really am and who knows me as Sir Kirkland. It can make it rather stressful. Do you struggle with it as well? I hear you have quite a few parties yourself.”

 _He did an excellent job changing the subject so smoothly_ Russia admired than man who showed no sign of worry in his face, the only place you could tell of his nervousness was his eyes. Even the emerald orbs however seemed to be hidden behind a tainted glass wall only allowing dulled emotion to occasionally show.

“Yes, I find it is best to introduce myself as Ivan always.” Russia told him and patted his head. England hit away his hand and blushed with rage and embarrassment. It never seemed to cease to amaze him that such a small nation both in person and geographically had once held half the globe in its hand. The entire globe seemingly to be stuck mercilessly under his foot and bent to his will. His thoughts trailed off as he watched England’s mouth open and close obviously talking while Ivan wasn’t listen just looking him up and down. A very real image of Arthur dressed in his old military uniform covered in blood, more of it his enemies than his own, his expression fierce and unyielding although his left arm lay limp and his breathing had been reduce to uneven pants clouds of white steam pouring out his mouth into the crisp air crossed Russia’s mind. Whether he was fighting against or with England he couldn’t possibly say or care less about. Arthur was spectacular in the memory either way and was a good ally as much as he was an entertaining and awe-inspiring opponent. But in modern times Ivan wanted nothing more than to have Arthur as an ally. He wanted Arthur to acknowledge him more, turn to him as a friend and let Ivan bring him back to his former glory.

“You have yet to greet me properly Arthur, no embrace or even warm words of greeting. Don’t look at me like that. It was you invited me here, yes?” Ivan reminded him stepping closer. “We are friends, no?”

“I did not invite you… they did.” He gestured to where a clump of his government officials who were trying there best to eaves drop in hope England would act as they had ordered him and make better friends with the Russian.

“But we are still friends, no? You do not deny it.” Ivan smiled happily as the Englishman cursed himself for not addressing the comment sooner. Now Russia had it stuck in his head.

“We are not enemies at the moment and in this world is there really a difference.”

“Yes, there is.” Russia told him sincerely. Scotland was right, England did sound tired maybe now when his temper was short was not the best time to bring up any more sensitive matters that he had previously hoped to discuss.

"If that's true I do not believe I have any friends."

“Arthur!” a loud shout interrupted him as what Ivan guessed at first glance to be an early teen with ginger hair and pale skin tackled Arthur. “I’m bored, big brother! Can we go now.”

“North.” Arthur stated seemingly confused before gently pulling him further away from Russia fear in his eyes. “I thought I told you to stay with Wales.”

“Yeah, but I ditched him.” North Ireland explained rather proudly before eyeing up Russia. “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Of course. Russia this is Northern Ireland. North this is Russia.” England explained reluctantly.

“Oh! Your Russia, of course.” Norths eyes lit up. “You’re the one the boss said it was a good idea to invite you to visit again some other time.”

If they hadn’t been in a public space Arthur would have hit his younger brother around the head for his foolishness.

“I was just about to bring that up.” He amended not looking at Ivan. “Now if you’d excuse us, I think its best I found my other brothers and called it a night. We all have much work to be doing later.”

“I understand Arthur. I’ll be seeing you again." Russia eventually replied before walking away a very real smile on his face.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“Am I in trouble?” North asked scared as his brothers paced around the office.

“No of course not you weren’t to know!” Wales told him the same second Scotland told him that he was definitely in _big_ trouble. North choose to ignore Scotland and turned to Wales.

“What was I not to know?”

“We should tell him.” Scotland spoke after a few second silence. “He’s a country, by his age we were all fighting wars we shouldn’t hide him from this stuff if we don’t want him to grow up sheltered and weak.”

“You know him. He has no filter and Russia’s bound to meet with him sooner or later at this rate.” Wales argued.

“There’s no point to arguing among ourselves.” England told them in a dull voice before going over and crouching besides North. “Now I don’t want you to get mad but I’m going to send you too your brother.”

A nervous laugh.

“I’m at my brothers. I’ m here. Unless you mean Ireland! I’m not going to stay with that bastard!” North stood up and sent the plastic chair flying.

“It’ll only be for a little while.” Scotland tried to reason. “You won’t have to become merged it will be more of a social call, it’s a good idea for you to build up a better relationship with him anyways.”

“Oh, like you did with England when you were younger.” North said sarcastically. “I don’t wanna go!”

“Your going young man and that final.” Wales scolding him was rare as he tended to be the most level-headed of his brothers and least likely to let pride rule his thoughts.

“Do I really?” North asked defeated. “He won’t take me.”

“I’ve already called, he’s going to be here tonight…” Arthur started.

“Tonight?!”

“Yes, tonight. And I need to go talk to Alfred because I promised I’d call back soon so go pack with Wales and Scotland.” England ordered him not mentioning the promise he’d made with Ireland. The one where if he became communist, he’d let Ireland take North. Even with their considerably more hate-than-love relationship it was better for him to grow up with him than as a communist. “Now if you’ll excuse me kindly leave my office. I need to make said call.”

 

No sooner as he started ringing was it picked up.

“Hello Alf…”

“So, I heard that Ivan came around for the party last night. What is that all about? Is he still there?”

“It was about nothing Alfred my government ordered it we barely spoke and no he left last night with his government officials to the best of my knowledge. I merely played a polite host, nothing more and nothing less.”

“That’s not what I heard,” replied Alfred an edge of anger in his voice.

“You should know better than to trust the newspapers Alfred. If it makes a good story that’ll sell, they’ll overexaggerate things.”

“Papers don’t talk Arthur. If they did, I wouldn’t have to read them though…” Alfred voice trailed off in thought.

“Are actually illiterate?”

“That’s not the point! And for your information no I’m not illiterate. I said heard not read weren’t you playing attention?!”

“Rumours are worse!”

“They weren’t rumours.”

“None of your spies were at the party either.”

“Yeah but they… You knew about them?!” Alfred suddenly shouted as realisation crept in. Now his totally awesome hero speech about how they were for Arthurs protection was wasted!

“Yes, I’ve had to deal with them and Russia’s spies along with all my usual work.” Arthur informed him.

“Ivan has…”

“I control how much they know with alerting the fact I am aware of their existence. I’m going to confront them… sometime but if I do that, I won’t be able to overlook yours either so I’m holding back to stop any tensions rising between our government.”

“That okay I guess.” _No, it isn’t how dare Ivan be spying on his Arthur._ “But my spies said you invited Russia to come around again.”

“North did. You know how he is! I’ve sent him to go live with the Republic of Ireland until… no _if_ this entire thing blows over. No specific dates were made either and hopefully won’t.”

“Okay… But if any are made call me and tell me.” Alfred ordered.

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Arthur snapped seriously annoyed at Alfred’s attitude and lack of faith in him. “I will though _afterwards_ and now if you’ll excuse me, I need to call France and discuss a few things with him.” It wasn’t a lie he’d been holding off talking to Francis so he wouldn’t have anything else to deal with but matters involving him were starting to stack up.

“…right. We should hold another NATO meeting soon.”

“Right, we’ll let our bosses’ sort that out.” Arthur told him. “Now I really must be going. Goodbye.”

He slammed down the phone not waiting for Alfred reply.

 


	5. Chapter 5

It was now 1961. The Berlin Wall brought Alfred’s fingers so much closer to the ‘destroy the entire world why don’t you?’ button that Arthur was desperately trying to steer him away from. Thinking back Arthur congratulated himself on being able to cope with the cold war and not working his way into an early grave through stress. He’d been through many annoying and pointless trials by Alfred and the rapidly expanding Russian threat, now making its way to Cuba after finishing wrecking Germany. However, with the new threat so close to home Alfred seemed to bother the Englishman less so you know silver lining.

The ever-growing communist threat at home caused a problem for him and his brother alike. It affected him more though as the official representative he suffered more. He could feel it in his heart even now as he lay in bed, the Communist Party of Great Britain was contaminating his political system and though had yet to gain more than one seat in parliament it had had close ties to the government. To close. Arthur drank double as much tea (which is saying something), what he could only guess was triple the amount of alcohol even though he was careful not to drink too much in one go and he suffered from more frequent and more crippling migraines. Too many times had he considered just letting Alfred go ahead and blow up Ivan but more worriedly there were times when giving into to Ivan sounded just as easy.

Ivan hadn’t visited him properly again and they’d only seen each other in passing exchanging a few words if the situation called for it before hurrying along to whatever else they were supposed to be doing. When he first received a parcel from Ivan, he was slightly scared but when he opened it, he simply found a beautifully crafted set of Matryoshka dolls of all the communist countries. They weren’t wearing their uniforms in the sculpture so England couldn’t help but keep it as it reminded him of easier times when he’d had somewhat comforting love-hate relationships with most of them. Especially China. He hadn’t seen him in a while and secretly missed there talks of the ‘good old days’ while they drank tea even if it made him feel like an old man afterwards. No, he hadn’t minded the dolls the only problem he found with them was having to hide them away so even if America came to his house, he wouldn’t find out about them. What he did mind however was a note that he received not long after that from Russia. Most of it was just talking about some mistake in some trade agreement papers apologising for it and politely requesting for talks to take place again. What bothered him was the last sentence. _I look forward to making your Matryoshka._ Arthur ran outside down the meadow just behind his grand house and reached a river. He stood there for an hour trying to force himself to throw the set of Matryoshka dolls into the speeding current before giving up with a yell that brought his guards running and walked back insides.

 

Ivan had lied. Well not really. Well sort of. He hadn’t told the whole truth. He really couldn’t wait to make an Arthur Matryoshka, so he started. He hadn’t really lied, had he? He was glad he’d started early because he could not pick a design, he liked the life of him. He told another lie. He liked them all. That was the problem, they all seemed too good to pick just one. But what was he expecting? It was Arthur after all.  He eventually decided to eliminate any that depicted him at a time he was Russia’s enemy. Then the ones that showed him in his WW2 or WW1 uniform since England had been Americas allies during that time. After a few nights of thinking he eliminated any with uniforms on, after all none of the others had been painted with a uniform and Arthur might interpret it in a bad way. Arthur seemed like the kind of person that would think too much about such a thing. Ivan imagined with a jolt his Arthur running his hands across the smooth surface of the doll analysing each colour used the shape and everything you could possibly look at for nights on end trying to draw a conclusion. Ivan looked again at the box of dolls that had taken him the good part of the year to make with new eyes and chucked them into the fire without hesitation. None of them were worthy of portraying his Arthur.

“Guess its back to the drawing board.” He sighed both from exhaustion and relief. Thank goodness he hadn’t actually given those failures to Arthur.


	6. Chapter 6

Germany stared at the wall with unblinking eyes. The grey wall, grey sky and his grim expression all matched. He rested his forehead against the cold brick as if he could summon Prussia back to him or to at least some magical power provide comfort to his imprisoned brother. He begged Prussia in his mind to stay strong to not change as much as he cursed Ivan and all of Russia. He cursed himself as well, it was all his fault no doubt Ivan was being so cruel. He held a grudge against Ludwig for Hitler’s betrayal when he decided to invade him, their alley, during the war. Germany also had to remember Russia had suffered the highest death toll of any of the allies and knowing him probably held it close to his heart plotting revenge after revenger until the two siblings would be completely gone or suffering for all eternity. The fact England had tried to speak out for them with the rest of the NATO probably worsened matters in reality, if you were to count in what Germany observed to be an unhealthy and downright disturbing obsession with Arthur. Whether it be praising him as a worthy opponent or as a worthy alley Russia never seemed to shut up about him when those closest to Arthur who might speak up weren’t around.

“Poor Arthur.” Ludwig murmured under his breath before stopping himself. Seriously ever since he became friends with Italy it seemed he couldn’t help but feel sympathy to ones he’d kill himself if given the chance. But much sympathy should probably be given he mused. Arthur was stuck behind Alfred with no proper power of his own having the two of the superpowers keep their eyes on him at all times. One wanting him to stay and one wanting him to come. He quickly thought of a funny image of child versions of Ivan and Alfred pulling the arms of a child Arthur who was crying. He gave a rare chuckle at the thought of someone suffering more than he but then remembered Prussia and forced the two chibi superpowers to pull Arthur apart so that his insides fell out.

“Ludwig.” At first, he thought it was his imagination but as he whirled round his eyes widened as there stood Arthur dressed in a large olive-green coat, a grey hat and black gloves. His appearance was almost had comical timing.

“Kirkland…” he let the name trail off not knowing what to say. “Are you here to visit me?”

“No, I’m not just thought I’d say hello for old times sake. I need a passage to the east and the government officials who helped arrange it told me you’d be this way so I decided to walk and hopefully bump into you.”

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes, just to ask how your countries doing. I find that its hard to get the full picture on a report.”

“You want to know how my countries been doing?” Germany asked angrily but the tired look that the Englishman gave him somehow stopped him from starting a rant about Prussia.

“I guessed as much. I also was asked to tell you Italy’s going to visit soon.” Arthur told him awkwardly. Germanys face lit up for a second at the mention of his friend. He’d seen the country in a few of the world meetings, but the former axis powers hadn’t really spoke because whenever they got near each other countries would grow suspicious. “Originally we were going to ban the meeting just in case you two come up with a plot but…”

“… it is Italy we’re talking about.” Germany offered. “So why are you going East?” A terrible though crossed his mind. “You’re not going to give into communism, are you?”

“None of your business kraut.” Arthur said pausing halfway through to sneeze. It seemed the cold was already getting to him.

“You _are_ going to then?” Germany was more surprised and disgusted than angry.

“I am going to Ivan’s to _reason_ with him.” Arthur informed him sternly before adding in a quieter tone. “For Gilbert’s people sake as much as anyone’s at the moment.”

A moment of stunned silence.

“Thank you. I’m… grateful.”

“Don’t be I’m doing it for his people, not him.”

“You still haven’t forgiven us for the blitz?”

“Would you?”

“You struck first.”

“Would you forgive the relentless bombings on your civilian cities for months?”

“…no. I don’t suppose I would.”

“We’ve all done bad things in the past. We’re bound to we’re practically immortal after all eventually you’ll make a bad decision and mess up but I’m sorry to inform you it’ll take more than sound reasoning to allow me to forgive you. Maybe in the next millennia I might, if we’re all still here by then.”

He gave Ludwig one last measured look before turning and carrying on towards one of the gates further along the wall without a second glance. Mentally Ludwig put chibi England back together again and sent him to go comfort a crying child Gilbert.


	7. Chapter 7

Ivan sat in his workshop smiling at his latest Arthur. It was by far the best not perfect, no not yet but a big improvement. He heard the doorbell ring knowing he’d sent everyone else out collecting wood he’d cut down earlier that day he had no choice but to put down the doll and his tools and make his way to the front door plastering a fake smile on his face. Opening the door, he made sure to flash it at his guest in case it was someone important. All they looked like however was a large green coat, scarf and hat completely covering up any features that might allow them to be recognised.

“How can I help you?” he asked curious to find out the identity of the figure before him.

“You can let me inside to the warm and we can have a reasonable discussion like your government promised we could.” Came the answer in a thick British accent.

“Arthur!” A warm feeling erupted in Ivan’s heart. “I was not expecting you! Come in, come in. You look freezing! If I knew you were coming, I would have asked for a hot meal to be prepared.”

“I did contact some of your government officials.” Arthur assured him somewhat tautly before stepping into the warm house allowing Ivan to help him out of his snow-covered coat but taking off his scarf, hat and gloves himself putting them in a neat pile under the coat hanger.

“Ah, the fault lies with me then I afraid. No-one has been there to answer call recently.” He looked Arthur up and down drinking in his presence. His shirt had was now clinging to his wet with melted snow causing the man to shiver every few seconds. “I’ll fetch something else for you too wear. You go to the lounge… You remember were that is?”

“Yes”

“… so, we can discuss...”

“Gilberts treatment among other things.” Russia supressed a sigh his hopes squashed. With anyone else he might have just sent them away but with England he choose a different approach. Who knows what direction the conversation might go? It filled him with adrenaline making him want to scream or at the very least run round in circles a few times like a little kid.

“Of course,” he managed to stop his voice turn into a squeal. “Well make yourself comfortable.”

When reaching the lounge (or entertaining room as Russia often called it) Arthur instantly did just that weary from his long journey he made himself comfortable in a chair and closed his eyes just for a second…

 

A gentle hand shook him awake. He almost jumped a mile and turned quickly to face Ivan blushing.

“Seems the long journey wore you out!” he exclaimed in a friendly manner.

“Its just because you took so long!” Russia had to stop himself for giggling, flustered Arthur was just _too_ cute. Almost as cute as sleeping Arthur or maybe just as cute… It was hard to decide. “Here.” He thrust him a jumper. “I’m sorry I couldn’t locate a top in your size.” Arthur eyes up the jumper and held it against him.

“And this is?” It wasn’t _that_ big on him just large enough that would give Ivan the too big clothes cute effect he wished for. “Surely Lithuania or someone’s else’s clothes must be around somewhere!”

“Sorry comrade…”

“I’m not your comrade!”

“…this is all I can do.” Ivan ignored the comment in the middle for both their sakes. “I’m having Ravis make up a guest’s room for you so you can have a nap or stay the night if you so desire.”

“It won’t take that long and I don’t need a nap! I need to get back soon anyways.”

“Why such a rush? Surely you didn’t drop anything important to just to come to see me.” Russia asked innocently.

“No, of course not.”

“Then maybe America doesn’t know or forbid you from coming~”

“…”

“So, I’m right.” Ivan grinned. Arthur had disobeyed or at the very least left Alfred in the dark to come to see him.

“I need to get changed. Turn your back.” Arthur told him ignoring his statement and question.

Ivan did so without fuss but looked back without alerting Arthur when the Englishman’s head was covered by the hand knitted jumper. To his shock and anger he noticed Arthur had lost a scary amount of weight. America hadn’t been looking after him as well as he should have been. Rage filled his thoughts but quickly fled as Arthurs forehead came into view warning him to turn his head back around. He counted to ten slowly in his head.

“Are you done comrade?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply. “Thanks for lending me this by the way.”

“It’s the least I can do!” Russia assured him trying to convince England by staring into his eyes. It was then he noticed that his forehead and cheeks appeared somewhat flushed. He hadn’t seen this before since wearing a hat had given him messier hair than usual.

“Well now if we could start with the talks.”

“Your cheeks are red,” Ivan told him, worry evident in his voice. “Are you sick? You should not have visited me in this cold time of year.”

“Yes, I am sick.” Arthurs voice was laced with anger. “I’m sick of this whole ‘cold war’ business, sick of you and Alfred both acting like children and all this damn Berlin wall drama. Are you two trying to kill off the entire world?! Because if you are your going down the right path.”

Ivan’s eyes darkened the second he was compared to Alfred when he spoke it was in a calm yet icy voice that made the Brit flinch.

“Why do you insist on helping him? He left you Arthur, without a second glance.”

“The revolution has nothing to do with this!” Arthur insisted. “Nothing to do with what’s right or wrong, what my people want or what is best for the world. Besides Alfred was growing up I don’t blame him for what he did!”

“He’s let you grow ill and weak, Arthur. You’re practically skin and bone. Why can’t you see that?” Ivan begged him to understand.

“My own fault, Alfred doesn’t control my life.” Arthur snapped. “And this has nothing to do with the discussion at hand!”

“I would _never_ leave your side, not for a _second_. Never let you grow so thin or weak. I need you to listen to me, give me a chance, _give in_ to me, let me in _only_ then can _I_ protect you and give you the power and weapons you _deserve_.” He yelled at Arthur properly for the first time he could remember, for someone who so easily flinched at his normal remarks Arthur did a damn good job and seeming unaffected by the new tone. “I could make you as powerful as Alfred! You don’t have to remain in his shadow. _I’d_ give you the weapons you need for you to retain your former glory like in the ‘good old’ days.” Arthurs eyes lit up a bit before they were suppressed.

“I don’t need power to have a voice. Not these days.” Arthur insisted swaying slightly. Ivan pushed his hand to his forehead. “You only need to speak the truth. Don’t look at me like that! Yes, I’ll admit, having power makes it easier to be heard but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible for others.”

“You _are_ ill.” Russia spoke in a guilty tone. He’d been so forceful with him in his weakened sate, the stress couldn’t be helping.

“Its probably just a cold.” The Englishman battered his hand away. “It’s been a difficult and long journey, so I am a bit fatigued but that’s _it_.”

“No comrade, you have a fever at the very least. Can’t have you dying, now can we?” Russia tried to reassure him it was going to be fine with a joyful tone. “That’d be no good at all. You should go to bed and I’ll send for a doctor, da?”

“I’m… I’m… fine.” Arthur managed. Now that he thought about it everything seemed to be spinning… oh and green for that matter. He slowly felt his conscious slipping away and he fell, no longer having the brain power to even remember where he was, into something warm where he close his eyes and fell asleep.

 

Russia blinked a few times at the sleeping Englishman in his arms Arthur had feinted so suddenly it had come as a surprise. Not wasting time however after the initial shock had faded away, he scooped him up bridal style as gently as he could and walked out the door. He didn’t want to yell for assistance in fear of waking the sleeping man so choose to navigate the maze that was his house to the spare room he’d intended England to stay in by himself. Once in the room Latvia, who was still busy tiding it noticed them.

“Ah! Arthur.” He noted in alarm. “Is he dead!”

“No, no. Just sick, go fetch the doctor and send Lithuania in here.” Russia ordered him. “Quickly!”

“R-right.” Latvia put down the things he was carrying and ran out the door.

Once he was gone Russia walked over to the bed and pulled back its covers and lay Arthur there who was now mumbling in his sleep tossing and turn an alarming amount. Ivan removed Arthurs shoes and sock tenderly before pulling the many blankets back over him.

“S-sir.” Came a shaky call from the entrance. “Latvia sent me.”

“Lithuania.” Russia moved so Lithuania could see England. “He is very sick, and the doctor is far away.”

“Well we should get a wet towel then,” Lithuania told him sounding sure of himself before adding in a stuttering choice. “Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

“It is common practice; I am surprised you do not know. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!” he add hurriedly.

“I have never had anything worse than a cold.” Russia admitted. “I will fetch a towel and cancel my meeting tonight.”

“No need!” Russia glared at him. “We don’t want your boss to get mad,” he elaborated and Russia after a second nodded in agreement. “I used to look after Poland all the time when he was sick. Now quickly we have to get the towel!”

 

“There now it’s not to wet or too dry.” Lithuania told him putting it on the Englishman’s forehead. “You want it to be damp and replace it occasionally.”

“I am impressed you seem good at this,” Russia patted the nations head who was now sitting by England on a stool ignoring his flinch. “Now I have to go to meeting tell me what the doctor said if I’m not back fast enough. I guess I will also call Scotland and America to inform them of the situation, so they do not worry.”

“R-right. Good luck.” Lithuania called as Russia left the room unwillingly looking back at the still sleeping Englishman one last time with longing eyes. Lithuania considered for a second about saying talking to America directly might not be the best course of action but decided against it as he watched Ivan close the door.

 

He felt sorry for England, Lithuania that is. He’d witnessed first-hand Ivan’s increasing obsession over him often being told stories of any part of Russia’s history that involved him or stories of when England was an empire passed off as simple acts of admiration but soon becoming concerning. The anglo-Russian entente was often a favourite as well as the constant complaining the Ivan the terrible had not be able to marry and English princess despite the countries offers. He also new about Alfred’s somewhat controlling relation ship with him and how paranoid Alfred had grown, or at least how paranoid he was according to rumours that, to be fair, couldn’t always be trusted. And now England was diagnosed with a stress induced illness that had been worsen by the cold and sleepless nights by the doctor and would be stuck in bed for a week at best coming in out of consciousness. If he’d been a human the doctor, who specialised in treating nations (each country normally had at least one medical expert who knew of the personifications existence at studied how certain events effected them, just after the blitz ended they’d swarmed Arthur asking what seemed to be like no-end of insensitive questions to further there understanding)  informed him and a nervous Ravis if he was human he’d be in critical condition already.

The doctor had left again after subscribing a medicine a painkiller to be given twice a day just before the Brit woke up with a start.

Latvia had been changing the damp towel on his forehead with a fresh one and the disorientated Englishman had leapt up banging heads with him with a yell. Reaching under his pillow for something that wasn’t there.

“Ow! Sorry Mr. England, sir!” Ravis stuttered dropping the towel that Lithuania quickly caught and putting his hands on his throbbing forehead. Arthur looked around him in confusion and did not object as Lithuania forced him into a lying position again.

“You are very sick; Russia will not be pleased if you condition worsens, and I doubt you’ll be much either.” Lithuania scolded him with surprising courage.

“Ivan… Lithuania is that you? I’m in Russia, aren’t I?”

“I’m afraid so. Russia is at a meeting at the second but will be back soon.”

“You’ve lost your memory!” Latvia panicked in the background, but no one paid much attention to him.

“Well I have to go now.” Arthur tried to get out of bed, but Lithuania once again forced him back this time putting the towel on his head which offered the Brit quite a lot of relief. In his weakened state he stood no chance against even Lithuania.

“You have to stay in bed for at least a week, doctors orders.”

“I hate my life.”

**Finally a longer chapter (yay).**


	8. Chapter 8

“Hello, Sir Alistair Kirkland speaking.”

“It’s Ivan, Russia”

“Oh, I know I just really wanted to introduce myself as ‘Sir’ completely forgotten I’d been knighted until a few weeks ago.”

“Really how?”

“I was wasted during the most recent renewal of the knighthood.”

“You were drunk when get your knighthood?” Ivan raised an eyebrow even though Scotland couldn’t see him his tone portrayed his feelings just as well.

“Very. I mean it was a small event even the media weren’t informed! Artie got a little mad at me I think but other than that I don’t think anyone really cared… Anyway, I assume you’re calling about Arthur.” The tone turned worried and a little threatening. “Has something happened? If you’ve hurt him…” he let the threat hang probably because he didn’t know what to fill it with.

“No, I would not hurt a friend he is just very sick and in no state to travel.”

“Humph.”

“When I know more and he’s awake again I’ll call you back, da?”

“Okay but I want to speak with him when he wakes up.” Scotland eventually said. “Your stories not hard to believe though poor Arties been working himself past the point of death.”

“Da, America has not been looking after him well enough.” Russia agreed sincerely not missing the opportunity to turn Scotland to his side.

“If he hears you say anything about America looking after him, he’ll have your head. He’d rather die than except _anyone’s_ help unless the PM or Queen/King making him… well that or if his people are suffering like in the… the…” Scotland did not want to say _that_ word.

“The blitz.” Russia supplied in a dark tone. “The wounds have not yet healed for you like they have with Arthur?” Scotland snorted.

“They haven’t with Arthur either.”

“But he is helping Ludwig and Gilbert?” Russia asked generally confused.

“He’s helping their people, there’s a difference.”

“There is?”

“Yes, there is.” Scotland had a steady voice. “But if it was me, I don’t think I would be able to go to such lengths to help them.”

“I see.” Russia way lying again. He didn’t see, how could Arthur still hold a grudge against the two brothers yet still want to help?

“No, you don’t” Scotland saw straight through him or more accurately heard straight through him? “Well I have to go Ireland is as bad as England when it comes to drinking….’xcuse me a sec.” Scotland pulled away from the phone so Russia could only here muffled yelling that was aimed at someone or another. “Sorry about that! Irelands crying about sick potatoes again… don’t ask but anyways as I was saying I have to go. Oh yeah, please don’t tell Artie I’m drinking with Ireland we were supposed to just drop off North and then get straight back to work.”

“Do not worry about your secret I am good at keeping quiet. Now I must make a call to America about Arthur.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?! I could…”

“No. Its fine you get back to your drinking have a good night.” Russia hung up and started dialling the hotline that connect the two superpowers which was supposed to only be used in case of a nuclear threat but who cares.  Before he could finish however, he heard coughing behind him and turned to see a man he didn’t know dressed in a suit. Russia knew who sent them immediately. His boss. “Here.” He handed him a slip of paper that explained the situation with England in code that he’d written out while talking to Alistair. “I will be late for meeting for good reason.” Without a word the person turned and fled and Russia turned back to dialling the number.

“England if that’s you I don’t want to here your excuses!” yelled America making Russia scowl.

“No, it is Russia.” He decided not to question Alfred for giving England the hotline number that was meant for the two of them. Thinking about it he should’ve too that way he would never miss a call.

“Russia…” America seemed too stunned to talk for a second before suddenly his angry tone returned. “Is England there?! ‘’cause if he is you can tell him too…”

“Arthur is very sick.” Ivan interrupted knowing if he listened to America disrespect Arthur for much longer, he might just crack. “He will have to stay here until he recovers enough to travel.”

“Huh?” came Americas stupid reply. “How bad is it?” His voice seemed generally worried. “How long ‘till he recovers.”

“I do not know. I had to leave for a meeting before the doctor arrived. I will call you back when I know.”

“Yeah… do that.” Americas voice seemed very quiet. “What was he there to talk about?”

“Gilbert, I think.” Russia choose not to lie. “Or well Gilberts people? I don’t see the difference.” He wandered why he was opening up to America, maybe he’d had a little too much Vodka on the trip over to the government building as he worried about England’s condition.

“I do.” America replied almost as if they were just two friends catching up. “Gilbert is a personification of a country like us, right?”

“Da.” Russia agreed.

“Right, so he’s a person and everyone is unique.”

“That logic is flawed.” Russia argued.

“Nuh-uh it what’s England told me, and France agreed. I f Francis and Arthur actually agree on something it _has_ to be true!” Russia didn’t reply. Arthur really though that.

“Okay, well I am going now.” Russia cheerfully ended the call just like that. His mind whirling with a new idea, one he had always had but until now dared not think about. A way to get Arthur on his side.

 

Russia made an unhappy face as he considered what his boss had suggested during the meeting the two of them had. He’d defended England of course, taking advantage of his weekend state or using him as a hostage was not very nice. Not very nice at all. He’d refused to do so. He’d suggested his new idea to his boss as well, so the meeting hadn’t been a huge waste. The idea hadn’t been shot down either… He hummed happily to himself.

 

 

“Yeah, Artie told me to call you, but you know me I had one drink and then nothing else seemed to matter…” Scotland lied. Arthur totally owed him for covering for him.

“But he still went to Russia before you could tell me!” Alfred countered. “Now look what’s happened he’s stuck there.”

“Well he’d been asking the PM for permission to go bang some sense into Ivan for a while but until yester he wouldn’t let him go unless he promised to discuss other matters Arthur didn’t want to bring up. I’m pretty sure he’d drank some himself when he gave him permission and time was of the essence.” Now he thought about it, Scotland was a rather good liar. He should get a medal. Yeah! That’s totally what Arthurs going to have to do. He’ll have to get some political big shot to give him a medal as thanks for being the best big brother ever.

“Your PM a mess.” Alfred laughed. Now fed a respectable excuse he was much happier. Iggy wasn’t going to betray him. Not really.

“I’m a mess. Arties a mess. The entire countries a damn mess. I think Wales is a mess?” Scotland joined in Alfred’s laugh while dying inside because he was telling the truth.

The entire damn world was a mess.

**Ta-Da the shorter chapter are back. I noticed while rereading the fanfic the next two parts that I’ll post as chapter are set in the same time period. The one I originally planned on posting second is mainly from Arthurs P.O.V that I haven’t really included in recent chapters. Do any of you have any preferences between Alfred being a paranoid child while hanging out with France or Russia looking after England being posted first? Doesn't really make a difference and I doubt anyone cares but you know. Thanks for reading.**


	9. Chapter 9

“I swear if you say _here comes the airplan_ e, I’ll kill you.” Arthur snapped weakly at Russia who only laughed in response before forcing the disgusting medicine into England’s mouth. It was day two of Arthurs illness and it was only getting worse he now had to be given his medicine by someone else because he physically couldn’t move enough to do it himself. He hadn’t eaten anything either, but Lithuania had managed to force several cups of water down his throat in his brief moments of mostly confused conscious. He’d only thrown up once so far that was actually pretty good, but he could still smell it since it was impossible to bathe himself and he refused to let anyone do it for him. Take the smell, his weakened state and the fact Ivan was spoon-feeding him put them together and you’ve got a pretty convincing reason to just give up on life. He also had to deal with America scolding him without shouting back because he didn’t want them to appear too divided in front of Ivan. He managed to work out that Alistair had covered for him though and he was pretty sure Ivan could work it out from his half of the conversation to. Russia hadn’t said anything about it or really anything concerning the phone call for which Arthur was grateful for.

Day Five of the illness Arthur was feeling considerably better. He still couldn’t get out of bed and stand on his own two feet without being hit by a wave of dizziness and fainting, but he could sit upright and even play chess with Lithuania who it turned out he got along quite well with.

“Checkmate!” England announced happily trying to ignore the piece of buttered toast Lithuania would make him eat if he had lost.

“Again?!” Lithuania cried. “Having no one but Poland to play with must have made me rusty. I could’ve sworn I wasn’t always this bad.”

“Yep, I can imagen playing with Poland would do that.” Arthur sympathised thinking back to his few encounters with the nation. “And you’re not that bad you’ve beaten me plenty of times.”

“You’ve beaten me _loads_ more.” Lithuania pointed out. “And I’m going to keep on losing unless I start using things like the ‘Poland Rule’.”

“I can only imagen what that entitles. I’m sorry for what you had to live through.” Arthur said grimly placing a hand on Lithuania’s shoulder before both countries burst out laughing. It was nice being able to forget about the rest of the world for a second. But only a second because as soon as Arthur glanced at the door and saw Russia looking in leaning on the door frame smiling slightly reality came crashing down again.

On day seven Alfred seemed to expect him to go back to the UK or maybe even visit him in America but as he patiently explained over the phone, he was in no state to go just yet then, after a few minutes of that, explained a few more times less patiently and more irritated. Eventually, after what seemed like hours of pointless bickering, he agreed to make the trip to France in two days’ time so he wouldn’t have to travel overseas.

To his relief once again Russia didn’t bring up the phone call any more than he had to when making arrangements for the Brits departure. Ivan didn’t even feign innocence and ask why he was going to France and not staying with him. They were all _‘friends’_ , right? Ivan’s attitude was actually scaring him a bit. He’d recently spotted a set of Matryoshka dolls above the fireplace in his room that reminded him of the ones hidden at his house and most importantly the note. He didn’t sleep much that night.

 

On the day of his departure he was walking around more or less fine minus the not so occasional coughing fits. He had a long relaxing bath, a quick shower, got his hair cut by Lithuania since he’d let it grow out distracted by other things and got into a new suit that’d just been ironed and was still slightly warm. Playing a game of chess with Lithuania before Ivan came back from who knows were to escort him out of the country, he realized he felt better than he had in a long time even before he got ill. Plus, he was finally leave Russia, without actually achieving what he came there to do yes, but he was leaving back _home._

“I don’t want to interrupt but its time to go.” Russia spoke suddenly from behind the Englishman who was concentrating entirely on his next move, Lithuania had him trapped. These days Arthur was wondering how he could be so big yet move around with such stealth.

“No, its fine.” The Brit insisted standing up and Lithuania nodded frantically worried Ivan might be mad at him for some reason.

“Then let’s go, da?” Ivan guided him through the halls he’d somehow grown adjust to before reaching the front door. There he gave Arthur a new blue coat, a different scarf, gloves and hat. He explained that Latvia had misplaced his old ones, so he had brought him new ones. He was quite firm Arthur shouldn’t pay him back when he offered, and the good-natured argument went on for a while before they fell into silence for the rest of the journey. A comfortable silence.

**Don't know why I think Lithuania and England would get along I just feel like they would.**


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred chew his bottom lip worry knowing at his stomach. England was basically trapped in Russia! Held prisoner against his will… probably against his will. What was he talking about?! It was definitely against his will! Who knows what the commie bastard might do while he’s not there being the hero and saving everyone! Alfred shuddered as he thought of _exactly_ all the things Ivan might do without the help of cheese-before-bed. He eventually calmed his breathing. Arthur had said a week, right? That wasn’t to long to wait, everything was going to be fine. Everything was going to be just fine. Just fine.

“Everything’s going to be just fine.” He whispered over and over again. “Just fine. Just fine. It’s all going to be just fine. Iggy won’t betray me.”

 However, in a week when he called again everything was not fine.

America slammed the phone down making France frown at him. Did Arthur want to stay in Russia?! Why had he been so persistent in staying there? Surely, he wasn’t that sick, was he? It had to be Ivan then, he must be threatening him or something. Iggy wasn’t going to betray him. Iggy wasn’t going to betray him. Iggy wasn’t going to betray him.

“Amérique.” France gently prodded him back to reality. Alfred stopped his chanting. Honestly, it was like that sentence had become his personal motto or something, but he was a hero and hero had to have cool mottos, so he’d have to change it sooner or later. “You did not have to be so hard on him I am sure he is very sick.”

“I know.” America didn’t feel like arguing right now. “You’re okay with Iggy coming to stay with you for a while?”

“Little bit late for that now isn’t it?” Francis sounded angry but it wasn’t _real_ anger it was the tone of forged anger but very real irritation he, Iggy and America often took with each other in happier times when Iggy didn’t always seem _actually_ pissed at him and France wasn’t always siding with Arthur even though they shouldn’t. Arthur and Francis _never_ got along for more than a few minutes it was an unspoken law of nature… at least it had been. Something about the venomous tone was oddly comforting, like when Iggy used to stay with him until he fell asleep when he was scared of monsters back before the revolution. “I have half a mind to go on strike!”  

“No don’t do that!” America yelled playing along with the pretence everything was normal. Like when England told him things like the Greek myths and then was dragged by Alfred into playing make believe as the characters. Alfred remembered so desperately wanting to be a hero but having to settle for the playacting of being Iggy’s. Sheesh, everything he thought of seemed to be about Iggy nowadays, even his own boss was complaining about it. “Hey France, you think we could go out for a meal I’m starving.” America asked boisterously. He needed to be distracted. Just for a little bit. Please.

“Fine but we’ll split the bill.” Francis eventually decided. “There’s this place just down the room with truly magnificent food and…” he leaned forward to talk to America quietly although they were alone in his living room. “…magnificent girls.”

America backed away to the to the other side of the room causing France to laugh his stupid laugh that was really starting to annoy America on day three of staying over at his place. Maybe everything could be normal. He just had to wait for Iggy to get back. He just had to wait…

 

“Iggy!” No sooner had he lay eyes on him than he engulfed the Brit in a hug. Normally, he wouldn’t have done such an embarrassing thing in his dreams but right now it seemed the perfect way to warn Ivan to back off.

“H-hey you damn git get off!” England weakly tried to push him off, but he wasn’t strong enough. Actually, come to think of it, he was weaker than usual. He really was sick! Alfred was relieved. Wait no, that came out wrong in his head. “What’s wrong with you its hardly like I went away to war or…” The rest of his sentence was unheard since America pulled him in _even more_ tightly causing his words to become muffled in Alfred’s jumper. America glared at Ivan who was standing not so far away. Once he was sure England couldn’t see him, Ivan glared right back the other people around them in the street backed off leaving the area around them empty, even humans could sense the tense aura surrounding them.

“You’ve lost some weight!” America tore his eyes away from Russia and held the embarrassed and blushing Brit at arm’s length. He spoke quietly under his breath but knew the Russian could lip read him. “Has he not been feeding you?”

“Alfred I just didn’t want to eat.” Arthur quickly brushed the question aside with a sigh.

“Wh-“

“Because. I. was. Sick! And still am to that matter would you mind taking me back to wherever I’ll be staying.” Arthur looked like he was ready to crack. “I’m not really in the health or mood to be a pawn in yours and Ivan’s mind games.” He hissed the last bit so quietly Alfred could pretend he didn’t hear it.

“Right, Francis is cooking us something and I brought a load of burgers! We’re totally going to stay up all night partying. We have a load of wine and beer too.” Alfred finally released the Englishman from his iron like grip.

“I’m _ill_.” Arthurs body seemed to also want to prove that point since he suddenly started coughing and was hit by a wave of nausea. Giving Alfred a reassuring look he turned and walked back to Ivan. “Thank you for your kind hospitality.” He heard the Russia respond telling him it was no trouble at all as he turned his back and walked back to Arthur who transported him back to the hotel.

**Don’t question what Americas doing in France. I was sleep deprived when I wrote these chapters. Combined three chapter for this ‘cause they seemed too short even by my standards. Not really happy with this chapter (chapters) but I can’t be bothered to rewrite it. I think the pacing’s becoming a bit slow so might take a while to edit the rest before posting it. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism or things you want included. Thanks for reading.**

 


	11. Chapter 11

“I can’t stand to stay in this country any longer.” Iggy complained to Francis from where he sat casually covered by tartan blankets, that Scotland had accidently left last time he visited a few years back, on the sofa as France poured them both some wine. “I’m feeling better and Alfred got to leave.”

“Oui, but the world conference is tomorrow there’d be no point.” France patiently pointed out. “Anyway, what’s wrong with my country.”

“Everything!”

“It’s not raining constantly here.”

“That’s one thing!”

“The food at your place is terrible.”

“Hey, just because my food bad doesn’t mean my peoples are to! Take Jamie Oliver for example.”

“So, you finally admit _you_ can’t cook.”

“No… I mean… I’m sick! Totally, delusional right now!” The Brit yelled triumphantly.

“So, you admit your still sick, oui?” Francis raised an eyebrow and sat down next to Arthur who was now looking defeated pulling the blanket up to just before his eyes. Since France was a nice person, he decided he’d wait until he was feeling better to relentlessly tease him.

“I want to go home.” Arthur took a while to speak and did so barely audibly but once he started, he carried on nonstop like a damn that’d just been opened up. “I want to go home and sleep in my own bed and make my own coffee and pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist. I want to argue with Scotland face to face as why I can’t ‘make some big-shot give him a medal’ without a proper reason. I want to sit inside because of the rain and eat scones. I want to take advantage of the rare sunshine and tend to my rose garden and get rid of any thistles Scotland planted (Scotland’s National plant is a thistle but it’s actually a weed). I want Wales to scold me and Scotland on being terrible cooks. I miss playing board or card games with them and having to put up with North inventing rules every few seconds. I miss not feeling so ruddy helpless. I miss when you could solve everything by declaring war on the person who’s upsetting you. I miss England; I want to go home, Francis. I don’t want to be stuck out in the rest of the world.” To finish his speach he waved his hand dramatically allowing the blankets to fall back onto his lap.

For a while Francis didn’t say anything just sipped his wine thoughtfully. It’d been awhile since Arthur had opened up to him so much, in an odd way he seemed to do it more when they were properly enemies. France often wondered if he’d done that on purpose, sharing his doubts especially when he was an empire to make Francis drop his guard so he could hit him over the head with a wooden spoon (it happened once, don’t ask) and win the fight.

“I have your board of The Landlord's Game (like a beta version of monopoly) that Alfred gave to you from when you last had to visit. We could play that.” France choose his words carefully. As much as he needed to be, Arthur hated being comforted except maybe by his brothers very occasionally. He’d simply told Francis what was bothering him to get it off his chest not to seek sympathy, if you wanted to help a sad England you had to be creative.

“I lost that!”

“No, I just stole it.”

“You git! I’ll kill you.”

“Do you want me to get it or not?”

“…your death will come at a later date.”

“I worry about your priorities.”

“I wish to watch you cry over a humiliated defeat before I stab you.” Arthur informed his earnestly not seeing Francis roll his eyes as he got up putting down his half empty wine glass.

 

 

“Iggy, dude!” For the second time that fortnight England found himself being slowly in Americas arms, luckily this time he was set free after only a few seconds, but America continued to grip his shoulder a bit too tightly as he glanced over his shoulder. “What happened to France?”

“I’ll tell you what ‘Iggy’ here gave me black eye, broken nose and ruined my perfect face.”

“It was hardly perfect beforehand either, you vain prick.” Arthur muttered.

“Why he do that?” Alfred asked surprised, to him Arthur still seemed fragile and sick to the point where he should still be in bed far _far away_ from the conference that Ivan was attending, not that that had anything to do with his concerns, he couldn’t imagen Arthur giving anyone so much as small bruise much less a broken nose.

“Board game and wine. Lots of wine. Excessive amounts of wine...” France mumbled.

“Sounds about right knowing you two.” Alfred laughed as Arthur pouted and France glared at him brushing his hand delicately over his bruised noes barely concealed by make-up.

Alfred was about to comment on this unusually poor job before the other countries started pouring into the meeting hall since the clock had struck 10:00 and none of them wanted to be late in case they miss something important in this time of tension. Notably Alfred spotted Germany and Prussia hang back only talking to each other, not even clueless Italy bothered them held back by his brother. He wondered how long it’d been since they’d seen each other, neither appeared to be in that good shape but Ludwig was definitely better off he noted happily. Despite there appearances both had affectionate half smiles on their face. He was so engrossed in studying what communism had done to Gilbert he nearly didn’t spot Ivan before it was to late. England hadn’t noticed him yet since he was looking for someone, probably Ireland, in the crowd and wasn’t resting his eyes on anyone else for more than a few seconds. As Russia started to walk over Alfred grabbed Arthurs arm, stuck his tongue out very heroically, and pulled him away to where they’d be sitting next to each together not listening to Arthurs embarrassed protest and suppressing a happy smile as Arthurs cute blush appeared again. Seriously, for a kick-ass former empire he was freaked out by and uncomfortable around people _way_ too much.

During the conference things weren’t getting done. Like at all. Germany was quiet, unwilling to speak up now he felt so humiliated and angry with himself meaning no one brought any order or form to the meeting making it collapse into countries just yelling at each other. Alfred was the only one apart from Gilbert, Japan and Italy who knew for sure Ludwig hadn’t known about the Holocaust. He’d told America when he’d gone to punch Germany for what he’d in terms of the Holocaust and the Blitz personally before hearing the confession and that he’d tell the others when they were ready to listen to him. Not surprisingly Arthur had figured it out all by himself and voiced his suspicions to Alfred who’d neither denied nor confirmed them, Arthur of course still didn’t like Ludwig at all. He may have not known of the Holocaust but he sure as hell knew about the about the Blitz. Thinking about it Alfred shot daggers at Ludwig, as well as being a bit guilty about not having given Arthur the revenge he deserved, just because he hadn’t known about the Holocaust that admittedly was the worse of the two the Blitz was still pretty horrific especially since it had happened to _his_ Arthur. Ivan was making eyeballs at Arthur again as well that made even Alfred shiver before regaining his composure returning the gesture eagerly.

“Are either of you listening to me?!” France demanded to the half-asleep Brit, who since hadn’t spoken to his government recently, if you don’t count a few very quick phone calls on which nothing important was discussed in fear of it being bugged and Alfred who was busy either glaring at Russia or staring at Arthur. This made Francis’s eyebrows crease with worry. It was at this point common knowledge of Alfred’s paranoid and since most of the older countries had at some point had been through the same issue of having a rival that they weren’t sure they could win a war against and the rival feeling the same they didn’t judge him. Arthur especially had at least attempted to be understanding he snapped more than a few times but that was just Arthur being Arthur deep down he sympathised with Alfred and maybe even Ivan.  What Arthur didn’t understand was that Alfred was more possessive of him than the other nations, by a long mile, he just assumed that he was temporarily the object of the fight with Ivan and Alfred and eventually they’d move on. France was deeply worried for Arthur, not that he’d ever admit it. He was very worried.

**Gah! This pacing is too slow, sorry about that. Not much happened in this chapter but its more there for having a few FRUK moments. Sorry if I forget to post occasionally, I’m currently writing a few other fanfics and doing a lot of schoolwork. Comments and Kudos are appreciated. I also do realize Jamie Oliver wouldn't be a thing at this point but you know who cares.**


	12. Chapter 12

Ivan sighed in relief glad to be alone with Arthur away from the mess that they dared call a world meeting. Arthur on the other hand felt exactly the opposite he’d been called out to have a private conversation with Ivan while looking for Ireland after their lunch break, who _refused_ to be found after dealing with Sealand who’d snuck into the building again. He could only worry about what would happen when no _if_ Alfred discovered he and Ivan were missing.

He sat down in one of the comfy seats that were dotted around the randomly not all up right and not all in one piece very much reminding England of the times North lost musical chairs while playing with Peter and Wy. Just thinking back to it made him embarrassed, North could be such a baby when he wanted to.  Wait, was that a _blood_ stain on that wall?

“So, I suppose your answer is no?” Russia did well to keep his heartbreak out of his voice.

“I can accept nor deny a treaty without my brothers and governments input.” The Brit answered evenly also keeping the emotion out of his voice.

The room felt so very still, they both new they were hiding their true feelings of the matter and sooner or later one was bound to crack. Arthur could practically hear the ticking of the bomb, he had to get out that room and _fast_.

“Do you believe in soul mates?” Ivan asked suddenly before even he could stop himself, but he kept his emotionless voice.

“I’m sorry?”

“I have recently come across Romeo and Juliet and it was described to me as ‘the tragic tale of the forbidden love of two soulmates’.” Ivan quickly amended. “It’s supposed to be performed for your royal family and government soon is it not?”

“Your right.” Slight surprise made its way into Arthurs voice. “I’d completely forgotten about that. How did you know about it?”

“I recently spoke to North Ireland on the phone.” In order to stop suspicion, he used the countries full title and didn’t give his full excuse until asked.

“Why?”

“I needed to contact Ireland, not anything that important but he was out, and North Ireland picked up and I think I might have been the victim of a few too many vents.”

“Apologises for him.”

“No need it was fun talking to him mostly.”

Silence.

“Well speaking of Ireland, I really must find him.” Arthur got up slowly.

“Yes, sorry for detaining you so long.” Ivan mimicked what he had heard an English politician say to one of his on a business trip in an attempt to impress him.

“It’s quite all right.” Arthur smiled back at him not noticing the severed chair leg in his path until it was too late.

He tripped and Ivan leaned forward catching his arm to stop him from hitting the ground. And of course, having Arthurs luck that was exactly when Alfred opened the door.

**Don't know if this counts as a cliff hanger.**


	13. Chapter 13

Straight away an idea formed in Americas head in the split second when he first saw the scene, of what had occurred just before hand.

_Arthur chuckled slightly. as Ivan continued to gently caress his lips leaning down and mumbling in Russian softly as Arthur half heartedly tried to push him away._

_“Mой, мой, мой, мой.” (Russian for ‘my’ or ‘mine’ I think (I used Google Translate)) he whispered with increasing urgency running his hands through Arthurs hair before cupping his face and pulling him closer to the Russian. “Mine. Мой. All mine.”_

_Eventually Arthur gave in and kissed him back for a few seconds before braking away ignoring the persistent pecks on the lips from the determined Russian._

_“Alfred will be coming soon.” The Brit reminded him speaking softly as Ivan’s arms found their way around his waist._

_“Just a bit longer.” whined Ivan in between kisses, never stopping. Small unhappy noises rose from his throat as Arthur continued to push away that then changed to an aggressive growl as Arthur broke away and started walking. Unable to stop his impulses he reached forward grabbing Arthur’s arm meaning to pull him into a more forceful embrace when they were so rudely interrupted._

Iggy was going to betray him. Iggy hadn’t betrayed him. That was what his brain automatically assured him in 0.01 of a second. It was then and only then his brain recognised the fact Arthur had tripped that was proved both by his position and the chair leg that had been kicked backwards and was still in motion.

“Alfred!” England registered in shock before shaking away Ivan’s grip who was looking equally as shocked and disorientated before brushing himself down. “How many times must I tell you that you can’t just intrude on people.”

“Right, sorry.” The American laughed trying his best to purge the vision of the two kissing from his brain. “But I found Ireland, he’s talking with Francis and you said you needed to speak to him... I'm not interrupting anything am I?”

“No we've just finished discussing things...” The Brit tried to compose himself a little more before walking out hurriedly. As the door swung shut, he didn’t wait for it to open again for America, really not wanting to deal with the no doubt endless questions of loyalty.

 

As the Brits footsteps echoes into the distance neither America nor Russia moved, they just stared each other down.

“He’s still not feeling that well.” America spoke first. “Don’t take advantage of him.”

It was phrased like a threat and Russia chuckled in response in a taunting way.

“I was not and even if I was how would you stop me. You don’t control him.” Russia’s voice was also threatening.

“I could stop him from coming to the meetings.” America spoke casually smirking as Russia’s eyes widened and mouth parted. “Then you would not be able to see him, would you?”

“You don’t control him.” Repeated Ivan hissing.

“No, I don’t.” America’s smirk widened. “But one word to his brothers about what you’re doing…”

America let the threat hang as he closed the door and walked off before Russia could properly process the information. When he did, he walked, slowly, to the door and locked it.

He had taken care of _business_ in this room before during trips to Parris and new the walls were soundproof enough to hide screams to pain at the very least as well as the fact no camera monitored the room. With the same uncaring walk, he reached the first mostly intact chair and looked at it with mild interest running his hand over the smooth wood and admiring the royal red cushion.

CRASH.

“Yмру!” (Die) he suddenly yelled smashing it on the floor not caring as splinters scatted everywhere. He then walked over to the next one and the next one repeating the process “Yмру! Yмру! Yмру! Yмру! Yмру!”

 _Why did America have so much control over **his** Arthur. It. _Crash. _Wasn’t._ Crash. _Fair._ Crash.

Finally, once the chair population in the room had efficiently been dealt with, he sunk into a corner rage causing his entire body to tremble. He grit his teeth together pulled his legs up trying to contain the urge to go on a rampage, using people in the place of chairs. Shaking hands unzipped one of his ‘secret’ pockets and took out the most recent Arthur doll he’d created and stroked it gently careful not to break it as he drifted into a fantasy.

_The fire crackled providing the only light in the dark room. It captured Arthurs features in the best possible light, then again, he thought that about anything that illuminated Arthur. The brit was dressed in a red dressing gown and his hair was still slightly damp from the shower, he leaned back in the armchair stretching his toes while sipping tea while he hummed a love song. Ivan took a minute to take in the perfect scene from his place hidden in the shadows at the far end of the room before making his presence known with a cough._

_“I-Ivan.” Arthur turned around and sat up straight in the chair showing the blush that belonged only to Ivan. “I didn’t see you there.”_

_“I know.” Russia draped his hand across the Englishman from behind the chair taking his tea and placing it on the end table nearby. “You have been working far to hard recently you must be tired.”_

_“I’m perfectly fine.” The Brit insisted but groaned as a yawn escaped his lips and he realised he’d lost. Ivan scooped him up bridal style, England too tired to complain and carried him to the large sofa lying him down before stepping over him before lying down himself. They lay like that in silence with England so tantalising close to him making his heart race past a healthy beat Ivan couldn't tell if it was torture or paradise.“It’s cold.” The Englishman complained a few minutes later as the fire started to die down. His voice. Russia's heart skipped a beat before presiding to run marathons as he felt Arthurs breath on him. And his voice. His voice! It was so quiet, interment, like a married couple murmuring to each other about nothing in bed.  “Go get some more wood, pl…”_

_He stopped talking as Russia draped his arm over him as well as moving his leg up, so it enclosed him slightly more._

_“You are warmer now, da?” No answer. “I could always go get some wood if you are…”_

_The Brit in answer swivelled round to face Ivan his face masked in the shadow created by the fire as he pressed into the embrace. Ivan took a second to consider his next move before pressing his lips against the startled Brits. For a few too many seconds the kiss was one sided before Arthur gave in and surrendered his mouth as they kissed passionately squirming in each other’s embrace before air became a problem and they had to part to breathe._

_“I take that as a no, da~” Ivan teased the Brit whose face was no doubt as red as a tomato. “You’d rather I stay.” Still no answer. Russia thought of a new tactic and moved to get up. “I will go then.” It worked Arthur pulled him back down._

_“Fine you win, damn selfish prick.” Arthur complied before pressing his lips back onto Russia’s cutting him off mid smirk. It was completely dark now, the fire gone, giving Russia an excuse to run his hands up and down Arthurs body to feel where he was lingering in some spots longer than others._

Russia took long breaths. He could feel the hate drain away at the calming fantasy and after a few seconds of his therapy he put the doll back away and got up putting his usual childish grin on and exiting the room. Maybe not soon. But eventually he'd live in that fantasy. Eventually.

 

**Feel free to leave comments. This chapter was mostly RussiaxEngland but not next chapter but the one after that will have a usuk fantasy as well. Thanks for reading.**


	14. Chapter 14

“Seriously did you guys do _any_ work while I was gone?” Arthur demanded as Scotland handed him a huge stack of paperwork.

“We did plenty.” Alistair informed him smiling. “Your supposed to be our official ‘representative’ so naturally your shares bigger.”

“Naturally.” Muttered Arthur putting down the stack of papers as he took of his coat to hang up.

“Naturally.” Agreed a little to cheerful Wales.

“That’s the spirit, Arthur. Me and Connor are going to go to the pub now for a well-earned drink.” Scotland patted him on the back strongly enough to make him almost tip over before dragging Wales out the door slamming it behind him.

“Welcome back dear brother.” Arthur did his best Scottish accent. “How was your trip? Are you feeling better, I heard you were sick! Take it easy for a few days. We _really_ missed you.”

He slumped onto the couch with no intention of some much as glancing at the papers in the near future. Grabbing the remote he turned it on seeing as it was the news, he was about to switch it over before realising he wasn’t up to date with the latest developments in his country since his government had neglected to get in touch just yet. It appeared that the news presenter was just starting to interview two people Arthur vaguely recognised. When the Brit tuned in to properly listen to what they were saying the person to the left was halfway through answering a question.

“…it is no big secret nor a fact I can deny that our government has strained ties with the current American…” England didn’t hear the rest as he groaned, he didn’t want to be reminded of that right now. “…however, the point remains those ties still are there and aren’t going anywhere soon. Our main focus should be on strengthening them as well as creating new ties to other countries such as France.”

 _Anyone but France!_ Before the presenter could ask another question the person to the right interrupted as so many politicians do.

“The so called ‘ties’ you speak of are outdated and not what we need in this modern time. You are living in the past.”

“So, you suggest what as an alternative?! To join the soviets and give into communism?” Arthur raised an impressive eyebrow, since when had people started throwing around that word with such little fear? Using the word as an insult was one thing, everyone in America was doing it, but that was one thing this was another.

“Your putting words in my mouth!” the person on the right yelled. “And if that is what the people what the people want, we have no right to…”

Arthur turned off the television. He’d seen enough of it walking through London. Capitalist and Communist Propper gander round every bend, his country was literally being divided in two as it went as far as to cause families to break apart over that matter (Brexit anyone?). Still the Communist were still very few in numbers it was just the fact a vast portion of those numbers were in high up places that allowed the ratio to be presented as even in the media.

He'd have to speak to his government about regulating the propaganda of _both_ sides at the upcoming Romeo and Juliet play.

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

**This chapter was originally bulkier but since a few people have pointed out its hard to read my other chapters I’ve tried to space it out more and get rid of certain bits I don’t need so there’s quite a few random time skips. Sorry for posting recently I have my practice DoE walk/hike coming up, so I’m occupied by that.**

America waited anxiously for the plane to land swinging his legs and not playing attention to his boss. Iggy was going to be so happy when he surprised him by coming with his President to go see that daft play.

“…we are here merely to strengthen our ties…” His President droned on perfectly aware Alfred was in a world of his own.

America already had an entire list of fun things they could do but number one on his list was to have a picnic. He didn’t know why it was just something a little more close? Personal? Intimate? Any of the above would do.

Despite how he may appear he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the fact Iggy thought he was only interested in him at the moment because Russia was as well. He planned to bring up nothing about the cold war, communism or even capitalism in the picnic. He’d even gotten someone to make some scones that Iggy could have! He’d told his boss he was doing it to ensure Iggy didn’t betray him, but the real reason was a lot more… selfish.

 But it didn’t matter what his motivations were so long as Iggy was happy as well it’d be fine! When all this cold war business was over, they’d be able to have picnics just like it all the time, so he _had_ to make a good impression with this one. Maybe, at the end of it Alfred could finally ask him too…

“Alfred!” His Presidents voice snapped him cruelly back to reality and by his expression he’d been calling the countries name for a while. “We have landed.”

“Great.” Alfred smiled as he stood up hastily but was stopped from moving towards the door that was now opening.

“You’ll want to sneak away while I say a few words, pretend to be a security guard or something we don’t need the media questioning who you are.”

He could hear shouting now coming, no doubt, from people and media waiting outside the plane.

“Right.”

 

When the cold air hit Alfred causing him to hug him bomber jacket and wince, but it was nothing compared to the noise he heard. It wasn’t shouting it was _screaming._

The left side of the crowd is was drew his eyes first. They seemed to be supporting his president waving banners like ‘Welcome to the UK’ and such but the right side… the right side seemed to be communist supporters. Alfred only allowed himself a quick glance and saw the most noticeable poster the UK’s flag with the gold hammer and sickle printed over it with the bold words ‘Down with Capitalist Suppressors’ written in the same gold print.

He looked away suddenly feeling very ill.

 

“Pleasure as always Sir President.” Arthur spoke formally as his PM stepped aside allowing him to great the visitors. “Alfred.”

He nodded in Alfred’s direction and was greeted with a half-smile.

“Arthur.”

“I must say though I was not made aware of y-“ before Arthur could continue Alfred grabbed his arm and started dragging him away.

The PM and President watched the Englishman recover and start scolding the American but following after him all the same.

“I’m sorry about him.” The President gave a small apologetic laugh.

“No, its quite alright Arthurs… used to it.” The PM reassured him.

“I wish we could trade nations; Alfred hardly does _any_ work.”

“Quite the opposite for me I’m worried Arthur will work himself into an early grave. It worries me he does so much, and I get credit for it.” The PM admitted openly. “I can’t help but feel it’s the fact he does so much to help his people that other prime ministers claim credit for that has allowed the country to fall into it’s current… state.”

“Yes, we will discuss the current state of your country later but for now I would like to indulge myself in relaxing and watching this play I’ve heard so much about.”

“Of course, right this way.”

 

“We’ll miss the play you git! Honestly, Alfred what could you possibly have that would interest me more than…”

“A picnic!” Alfred present the basket he’d hidden god-knows-where smiling.

 “I have no interest in a basket of greasy hamburgers.”

“I pact some scones for you. Come on Arthur!” Alfred desperately waited for Arthurs response.

“…fine then!” Arthur rolled his eyes as the opened the door of the large building and stepped into the field just outside. “I have a place not far off here, we can have it in the garden there’s a lovely river.”

“Really?”

“Yes really.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

Alfred desperately wanted to slip his arm round Arthurs waist or at least hold his hand, but it seemed whenever he tried touching the Brit, Arthur tried to pull away making the embrace one sided. Alfred sighed, falling in love with a Tsundere like he had… Well at least he was like the Japanese heroes in Kiku’s manga.


	16. Chapter 16

“So…” Arthur asked as he stretched out his legs and yawned slightly, watching the as the river lazily carried one of Americas discarded fries away from them.

“So…?” Asked Alfred confused. They’d had a good hour together (Arthur had been surprised to find out there was indeed scones in the basket and his mood had improved tenfold as a result) and America couldn’t see what he had missed.

“Don’t play games with me, Alfred.” Arthur sounded tired… no not tired…. bored. He sounded bored and sad. “There’s no way you would do this if you didn’t want something.”

Alfred was silent for a few seconds. He hadn’t so much as mentioned politics in passing! Why was England always so… so… suspicious?

“Alfred.” Warning had crept into Arthurs voice now.

“Well I suppose there is one thing…” Alfred started before smiling mischievously and placing his arm over Arthurs shoulders. “…I want you to have fun!” with a push Arthur found himself in the river.

“You...” spluttered the Englishman.

“You git! I know.” Laughed Alfred, as Arthur started to make his way toward the bank to get out, he jumped in as well causing Arthur to fall backwards in an attempt to avoid him. “We always used play in the sea when I was little, and you’d enjoy it to.”

“I did not.” denied Arthur who was already fighting a small smile… had America really come here to cheer him up? “You’ve ruined my suit as well!”

“Then I’ll buy you another.” Laughed America as he splashed the Brit and (much to his delight) got splashed back.

 

“We’re both going to catch a cold.” Complained the soaking wet Englishman as he took off his shoes and socks.

“I’m more concerned over how out bosses will react.” Alfred admitted.

“That’s a good point.” Arthur looked down at himself before unbuttoning his jacket. “I tell you what I have some spare clothes in my house. I doubt you’ll fit into anything of mine but some of Allister’s old suits m… Alfred are you listening to me?!”

Alfred was not listening to him. The black Jacket had hidden it before, but his soaked shirt was clinging to him like a second skin.

“Alfred?”

Arthur may have been worriedly skinny, but his abs were hardly not existent.

“Earth to Alfred!”

America thought back to when he was little and had hugged that chest at any opportunity given. At the time he’d always thought in too hard and had wanted a little more warmth to sink into but now… now Arthur’s chest looked perfect.

“Hello~ Anyone in there?”

Arthur appealed to the two things that all nations found themselves attracted to, some more than others; weakness and strength. Weakness because they all had a secret yearning to dominate others and strength because they could respect it. England seemed to have both at once, it was a surprise half the world was drooling after him… Or maybe they were.

“What’s wrong has your brain blown a fuse?” Arthur was seriously starting to get worried.

“No…” the reply came almost on its own accord. The Americans voice held no emotion and neither did his face as he picked up the basket and started to walk towards the grand house that was bathed in the midday sun. “Let’s go…”

Did others secretly wish to claim Arthur as he did?

He could here Arthur trying to hurry to catch up.

Alfred knew Ivan liked Arthur too but others… Francis, Ludwig… the names went on and on each with a reason that they might find themselves in Alfred way. Even Mathew wasn’t crossed off the list.

“Arthur…” he didn’t turn around. “There is something I need to ask…”

Why not? Even if Arthur rejected him that just meant he could spend more of his time keeping others away from his crush than he did trying to seduce him.

“…well the thing is I like you. I mean not as a friend but well…” he turned around keeping his eyes shut for as long as possible. “I love y…”

He stopped short. Arthur wasn’t behind him, he was a good few meters away… lying in his own blood.


	17. Chapter 17

Ivan couldn’t help but feel sad as he watched Arthur’s people die. He had to keep reminding himself they weren’t Arthur as they were lined up against walls and then ‘taken care of’. At least the bombing had stopped, half of his beloved’s beautiful city was gone and that did pain him a great deal.

Of course, they’d came up with some excuse to invade, he was pretty sure they’d chosen to pretend they’d organised some terrorist attack or something that or destroyed a trading ship.

The people who they were sure supported communism where located and taken to a safe location, but the rest had to die as example to the rest of the country.

It took him a second to realize someone was trying to get his attention from one of the make do tents they’d hastily set up. It was one of the communist from England who’d joined the fighting once it had first started just two hours ago.

“What?” he asked in English slightly more harshly than planned once he was within ear shot, his Arthur was going to be so _angry_ with him.

“W-well I’ve been t-told to inform y-you that t-the American president i-is currently h-here,” the soldier stammered.

“In the city?” Russia asked quickly a sense of anger overcoming his sense of sadness. If his president was here so would America.

“N-no, apparently they are with the c-current PM,” the soldier answered hastily.

“Почему, почему он получает все,” he growled. Of course, the play. It didn’t make any sense he and Arthur where destined for each other, but that _leach_ could hang out with him while Ivan had to invade Arthur. “Он не заслуживает его. он использует его! Он выщелачивание без своего языка даже!” he snapped at the soldier who looked very much like he might feint. “Он просто берет, берет, берет, берет, берет, берет, берет то, что мое!”

He felt the anger build up inside him, only now there were no chairs to vent his anger to or any vodka to drown it with.

Pushing his way past the soldier he went into his tent and gripped where his heart was trying his best not to scream. As much as the anger and frustration hurt him, he was also fascinated.

Before realizing his feelings for Arthur, he never understood you could feel so much. This hate inside him belonged to Arthur just as Arthur belonged to him.

And he use it to make sure he got what belonged to him, at any cost.


	18. Chapter 18

“Alfred you have to go.” The Brits voice was stern and didn’t waver in pain this time.

Alfred sighed in relief as he stood up from where he was sat by the window and walked over. _This was progress._

“No! Don’t try to sit up…” Alfred scolded Arthur but as usual the stubborn Englishman ignored him and eventually managed to get their back straight against the end of the bed.

“You idiot!” Arthur hit the Americans head the second his arms were free from supporting his weight.

“What was that for?” Alfred cried. “I was being a total hero and helping you! You don’t hit heroes.”

Arthur snorted.

_Iggy is already back to his old self. Good._

“You _shouldn’t_ have been a hero. You should have just left me the second that you knew what was going on. You should have fled with your president you idiot.” Arthur snapped, a hint of worry in his voice. “What if Ivan f-.”

Alfred put a finger on Arthurs lips silencing him out of surprise more than anything else.

“He won’t get this far.” Alfred assured him a slightly creepy aura coming from him. “He won’t get you.”

“Hmmmph.” Was the only reply Arthur could think of. “I still think-.”

“Does it still hurt?” Alfred interrupted once again partly out of concern and partly out of reluctance of having another argument about it.

He wasn’t leaving Iggy on his own. No way! They had a common enemy now. There was no way Iggy could betray him… Ivan had made sure of that. Alfred sniggered at the thought.

“No worse than the blitz.” Arthur dodged answering the question directly. He elaborated however when Alfred sent a disbelieving look. “It happened all at once this time, so it was much more painful for half an hour but now its fading quicker than with the Blitz because I, hopefully, won’t be bombed again tonight.”

“I guess if you say so…” Alfred was still reluctant to let the matter drop. Seeing Arthurs unease at his seriousness he switched back to his normal happy tone. “I’m going downstairs to have a late-night snack, call me if you need anything. The hero is here to help!”

He posed dramatically at the last bit before turning to walk out the bedroom.

“Actually…” Arthur raised his voice to grab the Americans attention.

“Huh?” Alfred stopped and turned around.

“Do you think you could get me that book?” Arthur asked pointing to the coffee table.

“Of course,” Alfred laughed obnoxiously as he picked it up.

“So, what do you do with them?” Arthur suddenly asked like he’d been holding back saying it till now but still regretted going through with it.

“Who?” Alfred strolled over to the side of the bed fascinated by whatever Arthur was about to go on about.

“Heroes?” Arthur sighed inwardly Alfred sent him a questioning look. “You said you don’t hit them so what do you do with them.”

Alfred consulted his years of studying comic books for a second before answering.

“Nine times out of ten kiss them!” he announced happily as he handed the book over to England.

“I see… well then.” England leaned over and gave Alfred a peck on the cheek. It was nothing more than a way to express his friendly affection, but it acted like a nuclear hit to Alfred ability to process anything. “Thanks.”

Alfred got up like a robot. Replied with ‘no probs’ like a robot. And walked out the door like a robot.

You’d think he’s headbutted a bucket of red paint, even his cowlick was wagging side to side like a dogs tail. If Ivan found out he'd be so jealous. He'd know Arthur was Alfred's.

**Short chapter of some fluff I guess??????**


	19. Update

### Chapter Text

**This isn't a chapter just letting you guys know that I've been on a holiday in Wales recently which is why I haven't updated.**

 

**I'll try my best to get another chapter done by the end of the week or in a fortnight or so but I have a few other things coming up (including my birthday, yay!) so I might be inactive for awhile. Sorry for the delay and thank you for being so patient.**

**Thanks for reading.**


	20. Chapter 20

****On hiatus because I'm finding it hard to continue. You welcome to continue it yourselves if you want just please leave a comment telling me if you do or if you use the context for a fanfic because it'd be really cool to read them.** **

 

****I want to explain I'm dropping this story because I no longer have my heart in it and therefore rush updates meaning it will be less enjoyable to read. I know I will return to this idea I just need to get some other ideas for fanfics out of my brain so I can focus better.** **

 

****Thanks for understanding and reading this fanfic and I'm so sorry about having to take a break but as I've mentioned to a few people in the comments I struggle to finish fanfics so I feel this is for the best so I don't drop it completely.** **

**Author's Note:**

> The first few chapters will be based on Cold Comfort by Little-Red-Apple because it was there annoyingly good yet unfinished work that inspired me to write this. If you don't get any historical things mentioned don't bother looking it up I probably got it wrong anyways. Please leave constructive comments. Chapter will get longer (probably).


End file.
